


Lightning Bird

by raindropfeathers



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: (because of talon stuff), Blood, Court of Owls, Dark Dick Grayson, Dark Speedforce, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Dick Grayson is immortal, Established Relationship, Just to be safe, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s) Death, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Romani Dick Grayson, Speed Force, Wally West is Lightspeed, and i love that episode, but im tagging it, but it isn't specifically set in that universe, but it's true, but you'll see what I mean, dark Wally west, flash family mentioned, graphic depictions of blood, i have no idea if it counts as graphic violence, i mean honestly dick and wally aren't that dark, i write it like, it's just that they are more of 'vigilante' than 'hero', it's more of a 'the man cried while rocking himself on the wood floor', no swears if you are worried about that, so there isn't any 'he cried for the years lost', speedforce, that probably doesn't make sense, that's not mentioned, the narrator is really kinda distant?, there already is a flash, there are Young Justice elements, wally is lightspeed because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29784309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raindropfeathers/pseuds/raindropfeathers
Summary: Two months ago, the previous owner of Room 115 and 114 was charged with tax evasion, embezzlement, and murder. Two days later, a man with dark sunglasses and a navy coat walked into Room 115, to never be seen walking down the hall again.“Can I come over?” The voice was quiet and afraid, almost a whisper. The man’s frown did not lessen.“Of course, love. I’ll unlock the door.”Wally West and Dick Grayson are dating. It's a shame that Dick is immortal, isn't it?
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West
Kudos: 11





	Lightning Bird

**Author's Note:**

> So my last Talon!Dick fic had unrequited birdflash and it hurt so here is a Talon!Dick happy (sort of) Birdflash fic that got away from me. 
> 
> Notes:  
> The Speedforce is kinda sentient? Kinda?  
> There is lightning, and then there is Speedforce Lightning (the lightning that comes off of Speedsters)  
> I kinda messed with the Lightning colors.  
> Dick's Nightwing uniform is a black bodysuit with a dark blue bird on the chest and gold accents.

The sole window in Room 115 in the Blue Square Apartment building slid open.

Blue Square Apartments owned two different apartment buildings, one right in the middle of town, and one close to the Bludhaven border. It was headed by a nice woman named Aiza Hadi, who was one of the few clean and honest apartment owners in Bludhaven. It was originally just the small building near the border, nicknamed the Pigeon Building for the nest of pigeons on the rooftop. It had just three stories, with two apartments on each story. However, its welcoming atmosphere and clean interior brought in many residents, allowing Azia to open up another apartment building. 

The Electric Building, named for the power station nearby, was the complete opposite of the Pigeon Building. It had forty-eight stories, making it one of the tallest buildings in the area. Each room was small but sufficiently furnished, and the rent wasn’t overpriced. The view from the deck on the roof was decent, accessed by two stairways on each side of the building and an old rickety elevator in the middle. Each room had exactly one window, positioned so they never lined up with the Norman & Associates building’s windows. There was a small cafe just around the corner, which the inhabitants of the Electric Building frequented. 

Room 115 was special. It was on the highest floor, and the room to the right was abandoned. It was at the end of the hall, right next to the staircase to the roof. Room 115 also had a door to Room 114, and it was common for the renter to get both rooms because of this. The only stable fire escape on the building was also connected to this room, with all the rest being rusted.

Two months ago, the previous owner of Room 115 and 114 was charged with tax evasion, embezzlement, and murder. Two days later, a man with dark sunglasses and a navy coat walked into Room 115, to never be seen walking down the hall again. 

If you went into the apartment, you would see boxes. Boxes of clothes, decorations, valuables. There would be one plate in the sink, one bowl, one fork, and one spoon. There would be a computer with duct tape holding the screen together left forgotten on the coffee table, and the ratty old couch would have five thin tears in the cushion. The bed would have more boxes on it, and the dresser would be bare. The closet would only have one navy padded coat in it, with a patch for the Gotham Knights. There would be dark sunglasses on the counter, sitting underneath bare cupboards. The fridge would be empty, spare for one curdled bottle of milk.

The bathroom of Room 115 was a different story. It would smell of bleach and cleaning supplies unless you went in between 3:00 and 4:00. There would be tweezers lying innocently on the counter, and an open bottle of Tylenol. There would be plain toothpaste next to a generic white toothbrush in a generic white toothbrush-holder. The mirror would be sparkling clean, and so would the toilet. And the shower. 

The doors to Room 114 were locked. If anyone noticed, no one said anything about it. Everyone knows you don’t want to get involved in whatever was happening in that room.

At exactly 3:00 am, the window of Room 115 slid open. A man dressed in black slid in, closing the window silently. He made his way into the bathroom, careful not to leave any trace.

The bathroom door clicked close, and the man let out a sigh as he slid to the floor. He took off his gloves and mask, placing them beside him. He watched the blood slide off the gold claws, pressing his bare hands to his side. After a minute, the man blinked, his eyes clearing. He shook his head as he fumbled for his mask, smearing blood all over the cold tile floor. Once he found it, he pressed a button on the side, and a click echoed around the room. The man relaxed as he laid down, his black hair matted with blood. The wound was bleeding heavily onto the floor, staining the door with red. He stared at the ceiling, humming quietly. The song was old and half-forgotten, and the melody was barely heard over the harsh breaths and gushing blood. The lights were harmfully bright, filling the room with artificial illumination. The man’s blue eyes tracked two flies as they buzzed around the flickering fixture. The blood was coming out slower, and the breaths were harsher and more halting. The song kept echoing around the room, even though he had long stopped humming. His eyelids drifted close, the struggle to stay awake growing too tiring. The puddle of blood that reached the man’s feet stopped growing, and the room was silent, except for the hum of the lights and the buzz of the flies. 

One of the flies twitched at the silence and flew down to investigate. The insect landed on the man’s face, crawling over his eyelids. It stayed there for a while, seemingly content. The blood seeped into the cracks of the tiles, coating it in the sticky red substance. The fly did not mind. 

The man’s eyelids flew open, revealing golden eyes. The fly flew off, only to be caught in the man’s fist. He sat up, his movements perfectly controlled, and opened his fist. The fly twitched once, twice, and stuttered to a stop. One wing was half broken off, and dark blood was smeared against the red. The man suddenly jerked, a sudden pain in his lungs, and he coughed up oily black sludge. The substance splattered all over the wall, and where it met blood, it hissed. The man coughed again, the sludge coming up less violently now, and he backed up against the door. His breath was rough, coming in spasms, and he tried to lie back down on the floor. The wound wasn’t bleeding anymore, the pale skin clean while black sludge lurked just inside. The skin was piecing itself back together slowly, and the man hissed, clenching his hands hard enough to pierce the skin. He sat in this state of agony for ten whole minutes, watching the skin stitch over the churning chasm of oily blood. 

The man stood back up, looking in the mirror. His eyes were blue, and his skin was the healthy tan it usually was. The man, apparently satisfied, knelt in the shower, smearing blood, both red and black, all over the curtain, and removed a hidden panel in the wall. He took out powerful bleach and nameless chemicals and went to work.

The smell of chemicals assaulted the air, and the fly on the ceiling twitched and died. Most people would not survive the combination, but the man in Room 115 was not most people. He mopped the floor first, removing most of the blood, and then sprayed the walls. The chemicals did not leave behind any stains, nor did they leave behind any life. The fast-growing moss in the shower died, as did the mouse in his cupboard. The man worked quickly, finishing the deep cleaning in less than two minutes. Next, the man pressed a button on his still bloody mask, unlocking the door, and exited the bathroom. He walked through the door to Room 114, not leaving behind any trace of blood. 

Room 114 consisted of several high-tech computers, diagrams, and holograms. It had the Bludhaven Zeta Tube, as well as several suits from the Gotham Bats. There was a chemical analysis station, along with other unidentifiable technologic machines. The man peeled off his black and blue suit and placed it in one machine that had an imprint to hold it. He closed the door to the machine and stepped back into Room 115. 

The man showered for a long time. The blood in his hair did not come out easily, and neither did the sludge under his nails. The water was hot and when he came out, his skin would be an irritated red if he was normal. He dressed in a blue t-shirt and gray sweatpants and left the bathroom.

The man collapsed onto the ratty old couch, bed forgotten. A catchy ringtone played from somewhere in the couch cushion, and the man only had to search for it for two seconds. The screen illuminates the man’s face a light blue, a stark contrast from the dark room. The caller ID says  _ Wally _ , with a red heart after the name. 

Two years ago, the young hero known as Kid Flash was enlisted to run to the Arctic. On June 20th, Kid Flash disappeared. 

On June 30th, a public funeral for Kid Flash was held at Central City Cemetery. The entirety of the Justice League was there, as well as all their proteges. They were all dressed in black variations of their costumes. The day was cloudy, and people lined up to pay their respects. A statue at the Flash Museum was dedicated to him.

One month later, on July 20th, Wallace West was declared dead. The funeral was private, with only the Allens and his longtime boyfriend, Richard Grayson, attending. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on the mourners. Richard Grayson never appeared in public again.

One year ago, Richard Grayson and Bart Allen traveled to the magnetic arctic pole. On June 20th, Kid Flash came back.

On June 30th, a new Flash appeared in Central City. He wore a costume of blue and white, with silver lightning. He was faster than all the other Flashes and was called Lightspeed by the press. Reporter Iris West-Allen coined the name.

On July 20th, Wallace West was alive. There was no grave in Central City Cemetery, there was no death certificate. There was no birth certificate nor school reports. There were no test grades and no hospital records. Wallace West disappeared. 

On July 20th, Richard Grayson was alive. There was no address, no mailbox. There was no phone number, no credit card evidence. There were no videos of him, no pictures. There was no traceable cell phone, no reported sightings. Richard Grayson disappeared. 

On July 21st, a man in dark sunglasses and a man in a red shirt walked into the Grand Hotel in Jump City, California. Three days later, they checked out.

On July 30th, two men in matching green shirts and black sunglasses checked into Marble Lake Hotel in Martinsville, Kansas. Ten days later, they checked out. 

On August 12th, a group containing Lightspeed, Nightwing, Troia, Tempest, Miss Martian, and Beast Boy went to space. Their mission was to fight the Gordainians, a race known for their powerful army and enslavement of several alien species. The trip was longer than expected.

One month ago, a man with red hair and green eyes entered the Midas Apartment complex in Bludhaven. He entered Room 112, which had roof access. He paid his rent in cash and often left the building at night. He sometimes had company over, in the shape of one man in a navy jacket. 

One month ago, Lightspeed appeared in Bludhaven.

The man accepted the call, putting it on speakerphone.

“Hey, babe.”

There was no response. The man sat up and frowned, staring intently at the phone. 

“Walls?”

There was a choked sound over the phone.

“Can I come over?” The voice was quiet and afraid, almost a whisper. The man’s frown did not lessen.

“Of course, love. I’ll unlock the door.”

At 4:00 am, a red-haired man ran down the stairs of the Midas apartment building. 

At 4:00 am, a red-haired man ran up the stairs of the Electric apartment building. 

At 4:00 am, Wallace West collapsed in Richard Grayson’s arms. 

Three days ago, Lightspeed got stabbed in the knee. It was a quiet night, and the speedster had run around the block twelve times now. Nightwing always covered the crime-ridden area and sent Lightspeed to cover the rest of the city. He reasoned that Nightwing was immortal, and Lightspeed was not. Lightspeed was making his way into the area that the bat had specifically told him not to enter when he heard a scream. 

At twelve seconds to 3:00, Lightspeed got stabbed in the knee. 

The knife was of a standard metal blade and a wooden handle. The pain caused silver lightning to arch out of the speedster's body and into the alleyway.

At eleven and a half seconds to 3:00, lightning struck one Matthew Daniels, killing him instantly. 

The knife disappeared, and the wound was non-existent. 

Annie Marcus, the woman who had screamed, later told a friend what happened. That friend was Charlotte Smith, who was sworn to secrecy. 

Charlotte’s diary had an entry from three days ago. 

Charlotte died the next day, from an electric fence that should have been turned off. Her house, unfortunately, was struck by lightning that afternoon. 

Two days ago, a blond man with blue eyes entered Room 112 of the Midas Apartment Complex. He brought a paper on the physics of the Speedforce, and a paper on the corrosive properties of speedster lightning. He stayed for three hours and then left. 

“Dick, I think I’m immortal.”

Richard Grayson sucked in a breath at the statement and leaned back. Wallace twisted the black promise ring around his finger as he studied his boyfriend’s face.

“What?”

The whispered echoed around the room, drowning out the rush of the city street below. Wallace’s face crumbled, and he tearfully started explaining. 

Thirty minutes ago, Lightspeed got shot in the head. 

The bullet was from one Mark Davis, a low-level thug that got lucky. Lightspeed did not falter. The bullet went through the head, but the skin healed as soon as it was torn. There was no blood, no evidence besides the charred bullet on the ground three feet behind the speedster. Mark pulled the trigger three times in quick succession, but each bullet was shot down by silver lightning before they could even touch the target. The shock that came from the punch in the face sent him into cardiac arrest. Mark Davis died two minutes later. 

Lightspeed then disappeared in the alley off Focus Street. Taylor Smith, a kid who lived that alley, will later tell their best friend, Cameron Meyer, about a red-headed man who had a panic attack before disappearing in a flash of lightning. Cameron will suggest that maybe the man was Lightspeed. 

A day from now, the Bludhaven Angel Middle School bus will get in a car accident. There will only be two fatalities.

Barry Allen’s acclaimed papers on the Speedforce will get another edit in one month. If one becomes so connected to the Speedforce, then one will be able to bend the Speedforce to one’s will. Consequences of such power would include Speedforce Lightning protection and manipulation, as well as a nearly unbeatable healing factor. This can be a result of a trip into the Speedforce. 

The current Kid Flash and the original Flash had their DNA changed to accommodate the Speedforce. This gave them faster red Speedforce Lightning, making the two the slowest of the Flashes. 

The current Flash also had his DNA changed to accommodate the Speedforce, but the force took a liking to the speedster and gifted him with yellow Speedforce Lightning, allowing him to travel into the Time Stream. 

Impulse had inherited his Speedforce ability, giving him the same amount of power as his grandfather. He, however, mastered it much earlier due to always having it. 

Two years ago, Kid Flash had the same level of power as the original Flash. He had red Speedforce Lightning, making him slower than both his uncle and pseudo cousin. 

Two years ago, Kid Flash ran fast enough to be absorbed into the Speedforce. 

One year ago, Lightspeed came out of the Speedforce. He gained silver Speedforce Lightning along with the personal protection of the Speedforce.

Wallace fell silent as Richard gathered him in his arms. 

Richard sang an old song as he rocked back and forth. It was eerily reminiscent of the song he sang earlier, but the tune held a different meaning. A promise.  _ Forever. _

Fifteen years ago, a woman named Claire Crowne and her husband, George Crowne bought tickets to Haly’s circus.

Fifteen years ago, the wire on the Flying Graysons’ trapeze snapped, sending Mary and John Grayson falling to their deaths.

Fifteen years ago, eight-year-old Richard Grayson went missing.

The police searched for one week. They stopped due to the sudden arrival of a new villain, Two-Face, who was a victim of the Maroni’s just like the Graysons. Batman never stopped looking. 

Fourteen years ago, an assassin came for Bruce Wayne. 

The assassin came while Bruce was talking with the mayoral candidate, Lincoln March. He was small, about the size of a small child. He wore a black suit made of thin material and gold goggles shaped like an owl’s eye. He had twenty-five throwing knives, with mercury filling the grooves. The assassin did not succeed.

Fourteen years ago, Batman went missing. He came back after a week.

Thirteen years ago, Richard Grayson was adopted by Bruce Wayne. 

Thirteen years ago, an immortal boy named Robin accompanied Batman in his fight for justice, causing ripples all across the world. 

One day from now, a man in a navy jacket and a man in a red shirt will leave the Electric Building, never to be seen again.

**Author's Note:**

> I adore Talon!Dick, but anytime when someone is immortal/has a long lifespan I get really sad. Because just imagine, years down the line, with all your friends dead and your significant other dead and maybe your family? It'd just be really lonely. (That's why in my ideal world Clark Kent gets exposed to that one type of kryptonite that takes away all his powers so he can live a normal life) So I fixed it! Now Wally is immortal too!
> 
> Also, I'm probably going to make this into a series or make a series with a similar premise, so...


End file.
